To My Child
by divoccae
Summary: Albus Dumbledore dies and Remus returns to Hogwarts. In Dumbledore's will, a contract is revealed that could save or destroy the life of Severus Snape, but does he want to be saved? RLSS eventually. R&R.
1. Prologue

AN: This is MY take on how things should go after Voldemort's demise. Disagree if you like, but please review. I can't improve or know how you feel unless you tell me what's wrong.

To My Child

Prologue It had happened shortly after the war ended. His heart was old, and even though magic could fix many things, it couldn't stop the inevitable truth.

Albus Dumbledore was dying.

It was a bitter truth to many ears, though it wasn't widely known. The dying headmaster of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry was kept comfortable in the infirmary where he was watched by the finest mediwizards and kept company by his lover of nearly fourteen years.

"Severus," Albus whispered, reaching up a pale hand to wipe away the tears on the younger man's face.

"I don't want you to die, Albus! Please, we can stop it, there has to be a way!"

"I'm old, Severus, and very tired. It hurts to breathe at times. Won't you spare us both the pain of dragging this out?"

"But -"

"Shh. Come here, sleep beside me tonight."

It was Madame Pomfrey who found the Slytherin coiled around the still-chilling corpse, fast asleep. Another Mediwizard levitated him away from the bed carefully, but years of paranoia disturbed Severus to wakefulness.

"Albus?" he asked wildly, looking about. "Albus?! NO!"

Even as the man's tears soaked the shoulder of Madame Pomfrey and his sobs filled the corridors, the sky let loose an almighty roar concealed by rain pounding on the glass of an already frail heart.

Albus Dumbledore was dead.  
to be continued... 


	2. Chapter One

AN: This is MY take on how things should go after Voldemort's demise. Disagree if you like, but please review. I can't improve or know how you feel unless you tell me what's wrong.

To My Child

Chapter One 

Albus Dumbledore was dead.

For miles, all Remus Lupin could see were mourners surrounding the gates of Hogwarts to pay respects to the fallen man so many had adored. They left flowers and chocolates – even jars full of lemon drops – to collect rain and tears on the edge of the school grounds. None turned to look at his carriage as it was admitted through the gates. They were too busy mourning to care.

He had been informed of the death nearly three days before, by Minerva. She had provided for his transportation from Hong Kong, and had asked that he give the eulogy, as Severus couldn't. She didn't mention why Snape felt unable to fulfill such an honor for possibly the greatest wizard to ever live, nor why she herself couldn't give it. For some reason, he felt compelled to agree to the request, and did so whole-heartedly.

Upon arriving at the castle, he was pleased to see Harry and Ron, as well as Miss Lovegood, waiting for him. The three young adults were dressed in proper mourning attire – as proper as Albus would have wanted anyway.

"Remus!" Harry exclaimed as he exited the carriage. "It's great to see you again!"

"It's great to see you again!"

"It's good to see you. Look at how you've all grown – I can barely recognize you!"

"We were a bit surprised when you disappeared after 'Mione's…" Ron began, trailing off.

Miss Granger who had, at seventeen years old, been engaged to Ronald Weasley, had died shortly after he proposed – victim of the war. She and others like her had proper memorials on Hogwarts grounds. The deaths of so many of his former students had sent him running, however, before any others were added to the too-long list. The war had ended several weeks later, thanks to Albus and Harry.

"How are you all? Where's Neville?"

"Neville's in Brazil, doing research in the Amazon. He couldn't make it back for the funeral, so he ordered an owl to deliver this." Luna held out a tiny plant with long green leaves and a very small black bud. "It's called 'draconip.' It blooms yearly on the day it's planted, and it's supposed to ease emotional pain."

"I think we could all use a bit of that, Miss Lovegood."

Remus turned to see Minerva McGonagall standing at the top of the stairs as sternly as ever.

"Minerva."

"Remus. I'm glad that you came," she sighed, seeming suddenly exhausted. "It's been trying, these last few days. Minister Fudge is soon going to be evicted from office, and we no longer have a headmaster of Hogwarts. It's been very hard, on all of us."

"When is the service?"

"Tomorrow at two. That's when we're unveiling his portrait."

Remus nodded his understanding.

"Mr. Potter, show Remus to his rooms, would you?"

"Of course," Harry replied. "Ron, would –"

"I'll get his trunks and be down in a jiff," Ron replied.

to be continued… 


	3. Chapter Two

AN: This is MY take on how things should go after Voldemort's demise. Disagree if you like, but please review. I can't improve or know how you feel unless you tell me what's wrong.

To My Child

Chapter Two

"The castle's a bit full, so the only rooms available are in the dungeons." Harry informed him as they made the trek. "It's a shame, really. When Albus died, the dungeons seemed even more dreary than before. I don't know how Snape can stand to stay there."

"How is Severus? Do you know why he won't give the eulogy?"

Harry looked at him, eyes wide. "I haven't seen or heard from him since they found Dumbledore dead in bed. As far as I know, the greasy git is merrily rejoicing in his potions. They're reading the will after the interring, you know. Some say that Snape's going to get it all."

Remus shook his head. He doubted Albus would do such a thing - Severus Snape was a very proud man, and preferred to earn him money, unlike those "soft-bellied suckers born of luck and blackmail."

"Well, here we are. Snape's rooms are at the end of the hall, ask him if there's something you're not sure about."

"Where's Ron?" he asked.

No sooner had the words left his mouth did the sound of large objects crashing echo through the corridor.

"Oi, Remus, you've really got a lot of stuff."

"What did you do?" Harry demanded with a smirk.

"I tried levitating them all at once. I got as far as the stairs, and then Peeves decided to help." Ron replied. "I think I broke my ribs!"

"The youngest Weasley son shook off several once-neatly-folded shirts and gingerly stood up. "You must be doing well to have all this stuff!"

"I am, actually. For the last year, I've been living in America. There's a coven of ancient witches there who helped me control my transformations. I was on my way to China as an ambassador of their coven to a clan of werewolves when I received Minerva's letter."

Things were, however, looking up for him. He now had a good pay, thanks to the coven, a full stomach, and a warm place to sleep every night. Without their support, he doubted he would've survived his time away from Hogwarts.

"That's good to hear." Harry said, helping him to shove clothes and scattered items into various trunks.

From behind, he heard a soft footfall, followed by a sharp intake of breath.

"What are you doing here?!" asked a thoroughly shocked Severus Snape.

Remus turned to look at the man, surprised at what he saw.

Gone were the eternal frown lines, angry furrows and haughty expressions. Before him stood a weary creature, obviously underfed, dressed in a simple robe of black that was belted at the waist.

"Severus, I --"

"You aren't supposed to be here!" Snape hissed. "Are you here to torment me? Is that why she called for you?"

Remus had no idea as to what Snape was talking about. He had never purposely tormented Severus, had never once given him any reason not to trust him. What was it that agitated his former colleague to such paranoia?

"I assure you, Severus, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Just mind your own business, Lupin. It's my life to do with what I want, whether or not you agree!" With that having been said, Snape stormed off in the direction of his laboratory.

to be continued... 


	4. Chapter Three

AN: This is MY take on how things should go after Voldemort's demise. Disagree if you like, but please review. I can't improve or know how you feel unless you tell me what's wrong. Also, thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. You've been lights in a dark time for me lately, and I appreciate the time you take to leave feedback.  
To My Child

Chapter Three

Severus Snape allowed himself to fall into his chair, sighing heavily to himself.

He felt old, and frail, and tired. Things that a normal person of thirty eight should not feel. His weary heart, slowly relinquishing its powerful will to survive, was beginning to succumb to the horrific idea of having to face life in the future as Lupin's servant.

He had argued with Minerva about it several times over the weeks preceding Albus' death, and the days after. As ironic as it was, those who made him a prisoner in the first place - the pet Death Eater, as they had called him - he would prefer that they take away his life than survive a life with whatever Lupin would force him to do.

He could imagine what the werewolf would come up with for all those times in the past when he had been malicious and malevolent. How far would the werewolf go? Would he simply beat him? Treat him as Lucius did his house elves? Or would he go as far as to…

A shudder passed through his body. No, Lupin couldn't possibly do that…

To anyone else, maybe. But you ruined his life, a little voice reminded him. Doesn't that give him the right to ruin yours?

"Enough." He whispered aloud, standing up with a power and certainty he didn't feel inside. Slowly, with the care of an injured cat crossing a dog's path, he made his way to one of his cauldrons. He needed the solitude and tranquility of his potions-making, he was certain that such activity would take thoughts of Lupin to the farthest part of his waking mind, and thus set work to making the Draught of the Living Dead.

Although his mind may have been attentive, his heart was far from being in his work. Nearly everything reminded him of his departed love, Albus, and when the depression set over him again, he found his hands shaking.

Too much, his mind warned. Too much bicorn horn.

He started back from the cauldron, but it was too late. With a pained cry, he was flung across the room, into his desk, by the explosion.

He was conscious enough only to feel the pain in his back and head when the door to his office - hanging off its hinges - was shoved aside. Whoever found him, he didn't know. Darkness consumed him.

to be continued... 


	5. Chapter Four

AN: This is MY take on how things should go after Voldemort's demise. Disagree if you like, but please review. I can't improve or know how you feel unless you tell me what's wrong. Also, thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. You've been lights in a dark time for me lately, and I appreciate the time you take to leave feedback.  
To My Child

Chapter Four

They had been talking of everything that had happened since Remus had left for America when the explosion occurred.

Remus had instantly looked out into the corridor, watching as McGonagall gently shoved aside the broken door and walked into the room.

"Shite! I don't think even Neville was as bad as that! What the Hell was Snape thinking?" Ron asked.

"Is he okay?" Harry inquired.

"I'm sure he is. Severus is a grown wizard, and he knows the dangers involved in the art of potions." He assured the wizarding savior, although he himself didn't fully believe his own words. Severus was easily provoked to different emotions, and once an emotion took hold of him, he held on to it like a leech. It was one of the many, many reasons why Sirius and James had found it so amusing to provoke him, watching how he destroyed himself by letting his anger or humiliation consume him. If Severus had been upset by Dumbledore's death - however unlikely it may seem - perhaps he had been consumed in a moment of grief, which brought him off his guard?

"Minerva! Is he alright?" Remus asked upon reaching the potions laboratory.

Upon entering the room, he saw the woman kneeling next to Snape. The sight of the other man was more than a bit frightening - his right side was burned, albeit not badly, and his right arm hung at an awkward angle over his knees that were folded beneath his body. Blood was dripping down his chin from a nasty gash on his forehead, and despite his age, Remus noted that Snape looked remarkably young and frail, propped against the desk as he was.

"Fetch Madame Pomfrey, if you would, Remus. And hurry."

He nodded silently, quickly heading up the stairs to the infirmary.

He returned to the potions lab with Pomfrey in tow, watched as a stretcher was conjured and Snape was levitated onto it, his broken arm draped sickeningly over the side.

How could anyone so bitter look so innocent, Remus wondered as the stretcher was led up the stairs to the infirmary.

"Look at this mess," Minerva whispered, motioning around her.

Remus had to agree - it looked as if a troll had broken in and destroyed everything. It was hard to believe it was a potions accident.

"I should have kept him under greater surveillance, shouldn't have left him stay down here when he's like this." She continued. "God, Albus, it's so hard to take care of him! How would you have handled this?"

"It isn't your fault, Minerva," Remus assured her.

She shook her head. "You don't understand yet, Remus, but you will soon, I'm afraid. All too soon."

With that said, the Professor of Transfigurations and head of Gryffindor House left the laboratory. Remus wasn't sure, but he thought he saw what looked like tears in her eyes as she left.

to be continued... 


	6. Chapter Five

AN: This is MY take on how things should go after Voldemort's demise. Disagree if you like, but please review. I can't improve or know how you feel unless you tell me what's wrong. Also, thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. You've been lights in a dark time for me lately, and I appreciate the time you take to leave feedback.  
To My Child

Chapter Five

At times, Minerva felt ready to drop the burden that Albus had left her to carry when he died. She was no longer the young girl she used to be, filled with energy, nor was she the young woman with the knowledge required to complete all of the tasks bequeathed her. She was willing to admit that she was much older now, with the wisdom that not all problems are easily solved.

Severus Snape was one such problem.

Even when Albus had first become truly ill, Severus had insisted upon being the stubborn ass he had always been. He researched nightly different potions and healing charms to restore his lover, despite how Albus told him that, should he find such a curative, he would not allow it to be given to himself. For nearly two weeks before Albus died, Severus hadn't slept or eaten much of anything. Normally, this wouldn't've been unusual, and would've been easily remedied by Albus inviting him up for tea, except…

Except that Albus hadn't had the strength or will to do it any more. He had told her often how he was worried about Severus, how he would take Albus' death. Albus had wanted Severus to be as happy as he could be, for as long as he could be, and if he found that solace in looking for some panacea for the soul, so be it.

Now Severus had finally paid for his lack of sleep, his lack of eating, and, she knew, his continued avoidance of his grief and pain. Laying in a bed in the infirmary, he slept, oblivious to the world around him. Pomfrey was keeping a close eye on him, and once he awoke, she had every intention of binding him temporarily to the spot until he began to let out his emotions.

Minerva shook her head. The man really could be an ass.

Remus was suffering from Severus' behavior as well. On the day of his return, Minerva knew that he had been accosted by Severus, and that things had been said that Remus didn't yet understand.

If only she didn't understand so well.

Fudge, in all of his idiotic fear, had forced a contract to be made nearly eighteen years ago, when Severus Snape was caught by Aurors and placed in Azkaban. In order to let Albus Dumbledore free him for the role of spy, Fudge had done something that had not been done in over three hundred years.

It was, by no means, Severus' fault, nor was it Albus'. They had both had to live with Fudge's contract out of necessity, but now that Albus was dead… Severus could be in danger.

The contract in question was simple: As a Death Eater, Severus could not fully be trusted by the Magistrate. Therefore, the only way the Magistrate could possibly release his care into the hands of anyone other than aurors would be to give his life to someone else. Whatever misdeeds Severus did would be taken out, not only on himself, but also his caretaker as well. This effectively chained Severus to Albus, making him a virtual slave. Anything that Albus told Severus to do had to be done, or Severus would face the consequences.

She was unsure as to how this effected their physical relationship three years later, but she was certain it couldn't've been much. Albus was not the type to do something like that, and even if he were, Severus would probably rather take the punishment than to do anything he didn't want.

At any rate, the largest dilemma she faced with Severus in these last few days was the contract.

According to the contract created by Fudge, without a Master to control Severus, he was considered no better than a dangerous animal. If, after two weeks of losing his Master, he did not acquire another, the Ministry gave the Aurors approval to seize and destroy him.

Minerva had been a witness to Albus' final will. She knew who was to 'acquire' Severus, and she knew that Severus was aware of the identity, too. He was not happy with the idea of becoming the property of a man whose friends had lived to torment him in his school days.

Minerva only hoped that, whatever were to happen between the two, Severus wouldn't try to do something stupid.

to be continued... 


	7. Chapter Six

AN: This is MY take on how things should go after Voldemort's demise. Disagree if you like, but please review. I can't improve or know how you feel unless you tell me what's wrong. Also, thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. You've been lights in a dark time for me lately, and I appreciate the time you take to leave feedback.  
To My Child

Chapter Six

Where… am I, he wondered, engulfed in darkness.

He could hear the roaring thunder of the sea crashing against the rocks below as lightning struck, illuminating the dingy cell. Azkaban.

He shuddered. It had been years since his first and last visit to Azkaban and still it reduced him to anger and shame.

… lips pressed aggressively against his, strong hands gripping the sensitive flesh of his ass, warm flush of excitement suffused wax-pale skin…

Was he dreaming?

… gasp of surprise when the lights flicker on, his back pressed against the wall, aurors surrounding him…

Or was this a nightmare?

… betrayal, raw hurt and humiliation rip his heart in two, painful burning sensation of his arms being pulled tightly behind his back as he was led away forcefully…

Regulus Black. It had been years since he had confronted these memories of the spy who had been Sirius Black's brother.

He hadn't known Regulus Black well, had known only that he had been a Death Eater. The few minutes before his discovery that Regulus was a spy had been filled only with kisses, gropes, and the painfully dry removal of his virginity. The time following, he had somehow been convinced to trust and spy for Albus Dumbledore.

Ultimately, he didn't regret that decision, although at the time, he thought he had. Gaining one's freedom only to learn that you were the equivalent of a slave to a man you spent seven years of your life hating was not something that his younger self had considered a blessing…

"Go away! Leave me alone, don't touch me!" he screamed, soaked to the skin and not giving a damn.

The old man stood next to him, eyes as sparkling and cheerful as ever. "It won't be as bad as that, Severus. I'm not asking so much of you, am I? Am I truly being unreasonable?"

"You're fucking right you are, you, you PERVERT!"

"I'm trying to help you, Severus. We aren't getting anywhere standing out here in the rain."

"And what are you going to do about it? Are you going to ORDER me to warm your BED?"

"As pleasing as that would be, I'm sure I would rather have you willing. Please, do be sensible and come out of the rain. We can talk about this."

"… fine."

What a foolish young man he had been. Not more than a year out of Hogwarts, and he had made enough bad choices to make the Marauders look like angels.

But it had been worth the foolishness…

"Severus…"

"No, please, I… I need this."

"You can tell me 'no' if you want."

"I don't want to tell you 'no,' damnit, now MOVE!"

What was he going to do without Albus there to comfort him when his scars flared with pain? To hold him when the past rose up to choke him? To irritate him with sugar quills and lemon drops and those thrice-bedamned lollipops when he was grading the garbage loosely referred to as 'homework?' What was he going to do?

"Albus…"

to be continued... 


	8. Chapter Seven

AN: This is MY take on how things should go after Voldemort's demise. Disagree if you like, but please review. I can't improve or know how you feel unless you tell me what's wrong. Also, thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. You've been lights in a dark time for me lately, and I appreciate the time you take to leave feedback.  
To My Child

Chapter Seven

"Albus…" he whispered carefully, eyes opening to take in his surroundings.

He was, as far as he could tell, alone in the infirmary. The beds beside his were all empty, the spacious room lit only by the light of the moon that passed through the large glass-stained window.

What was he doing here?

He looked to the bed-side table, noting the potions sitting on it: Skin re-growing, burn salve, pain reliever, sleeping draught… Ah yes, the explosion in his laboratory, the one resulting from his shaking hand…

He was better, though, and he had absolutely no intention of staying confined to a bed. He threw back the bed sheets and carefully placed his feet on the cold stone floor. Couldn't someone have left slippers, or at the very least, his wand? He shivered slightly as he walked the path from his bed to the door. Opening it, he looked around before attempting to proceed further down the hall.

It was very quiet as he made his way down the stairs, deathly so. He shivered slightly as he made his trek across the castle, to the stairs leading to the Slytherin dungeons. He hadn't gotten more than half way down them when Peeves appeared in front of him.

Usually, the poltergeist didn't bother him, choosing to play instead with students who couldn't defend themselves as easily, but Snape didn't have his wand. He was very much defenseless.

"Peeves," he began, "don't bother me tonight. I'm not in the mood."

"What's this, ickle Snapey-kins out for an evening stroll? Nursey-worsey is going to be very upset with you, unless you go right back up to where you should be."

"Forget it, Peeves. I have no intention of going all the way back, now move aside."

"I'm thinking ickle Snapey-kins should do as Nursey-worsey says." Peeves replied in an annoyingly cheerful sing-song voice.

If I had my wand with me, I'd turn him into potions ingredients, he thought to himself. "Would you please move Peeves?"

"Certainly, Professor." Peeves floated aside.

No sooner had he taken two more steps, he felt himself falling down the stairs.

He didn't try to move at first, chosing to just stare at the door across the hall where Lupin was staying temporarily. He willed the werewolf to wake up and find him out here, laying on the cold floor. Anyone but Pomfrey or Peeves or McGonagall. He knew, however, that the chances of Lupin being awake and opening the door weren't very good.

Slowly, he pulled himself to his feet, wincing at the pain in his left ankle and lower back. He attempted to stagger back to his rooms, only to feel his ankle twist and send him falling against the wall with a cry. Slowly, he slid down the wall, clutching his ankle and cursing Peeves silently.

to be continued... 


	9. Chapter Eight

AN: This is MY take on how things should go after Voldemort's demise. Disagree if you like, but please review. I can't improve or know how you feel unless you tell me what's wrong. Also, thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. You've been lights in a dark time for me lately, and I appreciate the time you take to leave feedback.

To My Child

Chapter Eight

He woke slowly, realizing first that his feet were cold, followed by the empty-nauseating feeling one gets when they need to both use the toilet and eat something. With a groan, Remus crawled out from beneath the covers, ignoring the chill of the stone floor as he made his way to the bathroom.

Once his bladder was satisfied, he quickly dressed and began his way towards the stairs when he noticed something - or rather, someone - propped against the wall.

"Severus?" he asked, kneeling next to the sickly-appearing figure. Fresh bruises were scattered across pale flesh, making the Potions Master look more like a Dalmatian than his usual bat-like self. Carefully, Remus shook the man's shoulder. "Severus?"

Dark brown eyes opened questioningly. "Lupin?" Snape tried to stand, wincing when his weight shifted onto the left foot.

"Here, you shouldn't stand on that if you're hurt," Remus stated dumbly, trying to get Snape to lean on his shoulder.

"What do you think you're doing, Lupin?" Snape demanded angrily, struggling against him. "Let go of me!"

"Hold still, I'm just going to take you up to see Pomfrey!" Remus replied. He miraculously managed to gather Snape into his arms and proceeded to carry the man up the stairs even as Severus struggled to get away. "If you don't stop fidgeting, Severus, I'm probably going to drop you."

Snape let out a sound caught between a hiss and a growl, but grudgingly remained still in his arms.

The rest of their trip was relatively quiet, until they reached the stairs to the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey and Minerva McGonagall seemed to leap out of the shadows, instantly accosting both Snape and Remus.

"Where have you been? What happened to you? Do you have any idea how worried I was?" Minerva inquired instantly, even as Remus laid Snape on a conjured stretcher.

"The dungeons, Peeves, and I have a vague idea." Snape replied casually, ignoring Minerva's angry glare.

"Now you listen to me, Severus, I may not be your keeper, I might not even be your friend, but you remained in the infirmary because Madame Pomfrey and I felt that you needed extra attention. Now just look at you - this wouldn't've happened if you'd just swallowed your pride and remained in bed like any sensible person would've!"

"Where does it hurt, Severus?" Pomfrey asked.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm fine!"

"His left ankle was bothering him when I found him," Remus chimed.

"Stay out of this, Lupin. My life is none of your concern!"

Remus nodded. "I guess you don't need me here. I'll see you this afternoon Minerva, Pomfrey… Severus."

He took one last look back before he descended the stairs in search of something to eat.

to be continued... 


	10. Chapter Nine

AN: This is MY take on how things should go after Voldemort's demise. Disagree if you like, but please review. I can't improve or know how you feel unless you tell me what's wrong. Also, thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. You've been lights in a dark time for me lately, and I appreciate the time you take to leave feedback. And to Silverthreads: Sorry.

To My Child

Chapter Nine

"I cannot believe that you would sit out in the hall - ON THE FLOOR - for HOURS with NO ROBE, SLIPPERS, or WAND. What in heaven's name were you THINKING?!" Minerva demanded of the man laying, once more, in the infirmary bed.

"Do forgive me, Minerva," Snape sneered, "the next time I fall down the stairs, I'll be sure to take along my wardrobe - that way I'll be properly attired when I break my ribs and start dying from internal injuries."

She shook her head. Severus Snape was not an easy man to get along with, rather he was impossible.

"What are you going to do this evening, after Remus finds out? Are you planning on having Peeves throw you down the stairs again?"

Severus glared up at her. "I believe that the Minister would be all to happy to take care of that for me. Isn't that why Albus brought Remus into this in the first place?"

Minerva had to concede that Albus had brought Remus in so that Severus could continue to live freely, or at least as freely as one could with Fudge's contract hanging over their head. Why couldn't Albus have left Severus to someone who would understand him a bit better, like…

… well. Perhaps that was the problem.

"Do I have your permission to leave now, Minerva?"

She looked to Pomfrey who nodded her approval. "Yes, but take care of yourself this time. And take your wand!"

Severus took his wand from Pomfrey disapprovingly. "If you had just left it by the bed in the first place…"

"If you had just stayed in bed in the first place…"

"… none of this would have happened."

She said nothing further as he walked out of the infirmary. Instead, she sat down on the bed he had occupied. She felt so very, very tired from all of this.

"It's pointless to try reasoning with him, Minerva," Pomfrey said, rearranging her potions cabinet. "He's been that way since he first came here as a student. You can't change a person who's been that way for over three decades."

"I can't help but wonder, though," She stated, rubbing her temples. "Albus had told me stories before Severus came here, of how sweet and gentle he could be. Did I destroy that boy Albus knew? Who do I blame for Severus' paranoid nature?"

Pomfrey looked up at her in surprise. "You were never Severus' keeper, Minerva. You can't blame yourself for his mistakes or his attitudes. You have to remember this: People like Severus are products of harsh and unforgiving circumstances. You ask me if you destroyed the boy Albus took care of, but you should be asking yourself if Albus ever knew that boy at all. Perhaps Albus was too close to Severus, or perhaps - if what I suspect is true - Severus simply is not a very sociable person. Think about it, Minerva - when Severus first came here, he was quiet and very much a loner. The only time that I could see that he caused trouble was when people tried interacting with him. Albus certainly never forced him into society before his first year, we both know his father died when he was still young, and his mother practically tried to keep him in a broom closet. So maybe Severus is very kind and gentle and sweet whenever he's around a solitary person that he trusts - something that we've never really been given the chance to see."

Minerva nodded. Pomfrey was right - she couldn't blame herself for Severus being who he was, no matter how responsible she felt.

"Maybe you should get something to eat. This stress can't be good for you, and not eating isn't helping."

"You're right. Thank you, Poppy."

"You're welcome. Just take care of yourself." Pomfrey replied happily, returning to her work as Minerva left.

to be continued... 


	11. Chapter Ten

AN: This is MY take on how things should go after Voldemort's demise. Disagree if you like, but please review. I can't improve or know how you feel unless you tell me what's wrong. Also, thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. You've been lights in a dark time for me lately, and I appreciate the time you take to leave feedback.

To My Child

Chapter Ten

Severus was angry. At himself, at the world. At Albus, especially, for putting him in this situation in the first place.

Why was the world so cruel? In less than six hours, Lupin would discover that Albus had given 'Snivellus' into his care. Was it too much to hope that Lupin would simply wish him dead instead of dragging the torture out over decades? Then again, Lupin was a werewolf - he probably wouldn't live too much longer…

"Albus, look what you've done to me." He whispered aloud. "How did I let you talk me into this mess?"

The water that soaks his hair and clothes is cold enough to make him shiver violently, curling into a tighter ball on the large bed.

"It is ultimately your decision, Severus. You can go back to Azkaban and wait your death slowly, or you can agree to this contract and help me."

"If I help you, if we win the war, the contract will be terminated, won't it?"

The silence is the only answer he needs.

"I see. So I'm supposed to sign away my life to you in exchange for life outside of Azkaban, even though Voldemort may discover me and kill me, or I breathe the wrong way and the Ministry kills me, or you decide I'm worthless and YOU kill me."

"I promise you, Severus, I shall protect you within the best of my ability."

His expression softens, and suddenly he feels like a five year old again, meeting the strange old man for the first time in the elevator at the Ministry. "What happens to me when you aren't here to protect me?"

"I'll make sure there is always someone to care for you."

Memories of a time before his school days at Hogwarts flood his mind, memories of his younger self standing on a stood over a cauldron of pepper up potion, reading in front of the fireplace, meeting Aberforth and finally having a good game of chess… He knows that Dumbledore is somehow manipulating his mind to remember these things.

"What do I need to do?"

It seemed like an age ago when he had agreed to this life-style, thinking that he would die within the first two years of the war. He would never have imagined that he would live to see his twenty-first birthday, much less his thirty-ninth.

His stomach growled angrily at him, but the thought of food made him nauseated lately. In his school days, he was infamous for skipping entire meals. The few meals he had attended between first and seventh year hadn't been more than maybe a quarter of what was on his plate - which wasn't much to begin with. Even when he had first returned as a spy and a teacher, his appetite had been very small. Albus - and others of the teaching staff - had constantly told him that he needed to eat more, that he wasn't doing himself any favors by not eating.

It wasn't something he could really control. In his school days, eating could very well make him an easier target for the Marauders. In the days after, he had seen enough of the human body and its functional processes during Death Eater revelries to make him gag even when he wasn't trying to eat. Now that Albus was dead, he simply had no stomach for food.

He knew that Albus would be particularly upset with him if he knew that Severus wasn't eating, wasn't sleeping, wasn't anything since his death, but he couldn't find himself caring. His purpose in life had been lost long ago, somewhere in the strands of time, and the only anchor he had had to this life was no longer a part of it. He was ready to die, now, if only Minerva and Pomfrey would let him.

"What were you thinking, Severus?! You are by far the dumbest man I have ever laid eyes on if you think that killing yourself will solve anything!"

"What I do with my life is none of your business, Minerva!"

"Your life hasn't been your own in over eighteen years!"

His face paled with the memory of that particular fight. Minerva had been angry enough that she had actually hit him, hard across the face. No one had hit him like that since he was seventeen years old…

He shook his head. He wasn't ready to confront that part of his past. Not yet.

With nothing else to do, he decided that now would be the time to seek retribution for the pain Peeves had caused him. He would find the Bloody Baron, Peeves would be terrified out of his wits, and Severus would place the memory in a pensieve to watch over, and over, and over.

Yes, that was definitely the way to brighten his day.

to be continued... 


	12. Chapter Eleven

AN: This is MY take on how things should go after Voldemort's demise. Disagree if you like, but please review. I can't improve or know how you feel unless you tell me what's wrong. Also, thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. You've been lights in a dark time for me lately, and I appreciate the time you take to leave feedback.

To My Child

Chapter Eleven

Remus ate his muffin with all the enthusiasm of a prisoner about to face execution. His appetite was diminishing as the hours ticked on. In no less than fifteen minutes, Minerva would have the priests begin the service.

"How are you holding up, dear?" Molly Weasley asked from her perch beside him. "You really shouldn't pick at that, you're not doing either of you a favor."

"I'm fine, thanks. And I know." Remus replied softly.

"Really, dear, it's understandable. You've been through so much since you were with us last…"

But hadn't Harry and Ron and Severus suffered more, he wanted to ask. He would've too, if Minerva hadn't, at that very moment, approached the temporary podium erected in the front of the Great Hall.

The priest took his place at the podium. "Very few wizards have walked this Earth with the surety as this son of God, Albus Dumbledore, did. He touched many lives, and many hearts. Both myself and Professor McGonagall would like to allow each of us to say a parting word, but as there are so many, the Professor has given the privilege to Remus J. Lupin."

Remus walked to the podium, wondering to himself at Snape's apparent nonchalance as he pulled out his speech.

"Ahem." He cleared his throat, nervous. He had managed to teach large classes, but in front of hundreds of his peers, he was reduced to a babbling idiot. James and Sirius had always been the excellent speech-givers, not himself. "I would like to thank all of you for joining us here today, on Albus' behalf. I know that he would appreciate knowing that so many people cared so much for him."

How was he doing? He wasn't being jeered at - not yet. That was a good sign, yes?

"I first met Albus when I was a very young boy, shortly after I received a bite from a werewolf. It was Albus Dumbledore who promised me a brighter future, who ensured my education here at Hogwarts. A kinder, more understanding and humane person there never was."

No one had fallen out of their chair yet. Keep going?

"Yet I didn't realize how much Albus or this place meant to me until it was gone. I was not here when Albus died, nor was I informed of his illness until I received the letter informing me of his death. Being here the last day has made me realize how nothing monumental has changed since that death. In my despair, I have felt utterly pointless in this world, but I realize now that Albus would not want this."

Excellent! Sirius would be proud of you!

"Albus once told me, 'The outside of the body may be changed by a wound, but the soul itself remains in tact.' We must allow these wounds - these feelings of despair and hurt and anger - bleed, let them scar, and put them in the past where they belong. Albus would not want us to grieve for him, so please, let us heal."

With a final glance over the crowd, he bowed his head and fled back to his seat.

"That was marvelous, Remus." Molly assured him. "Albus would be proud."

Remus didn't think Albus would've been proud - he was just thankful it was over. He glanced up at the podium, where the tarp over the portrait was removed with a simple 'accio tarp' spell. There, in a two-dimensional representation of oil and canvas was Albus Dumbledore, smiling that omniscient smile, eyes at full twinkle.

"Good afternoon," the portrait greeted the audience. "Lemon drop, anyone?"

If it had been any other situation, Remus might've chuckled. Yet there was something oddly morbid about a man's portrait repeating that familiar phrase only seconds after his eulogy had been given. Around him, several former students and colleagues burst into sobs. Molly Weasley dabbed at her eyes.

It was all very surreal. It made Remus entirely too uneasy.

Minerva stood, tugging on Snape's arm to get him to stand. Together, the two of them approached the portrait - sitting next to the ornate jar holding Albus' ashes - and left an offering of lemon drops and lilies - Albus' favorite.

Slowly, others left their offerings, most then turning to leave, while a few - Minerva, Severus, Harry, Aberforth, and other close friends - made their way to the deputy-headmistress' office. Remus laid a small statue of a phoenix next to the other offerings and made his way after Minerva.

to be continued... 


	13. Chapter Twelve

AN: This is MY take on how things should go after Voldemort's demise. Disagree if you like, but please review. I can't improve or know how you feel unless you tell me what's wrong. Also, thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. You've been lights in a dark time for me lately, and I appreciate the time you take to leave feedback.

To My Child

Chapter Twelve

"Well," Minerva began, pulling from her desk drawer the documents that made up Albus Dumbledore's will. She set the papers on the desk, took a quick inventory of the room to be sure all of the small items were present, and glanced at Severus, who was skulking in the corner, arms crossed over his chest and his face hidden by his hair. "I do wish that we could have all met under better circumstances. However, since we cannot change the past, I suggest we get these legal matters finished with."

She sat down in her chair, motioning for the others to sit in the seats she had conjured for them. Once everyone - everyone with the exception of Severus - was seated, she began to read:

"'I, Albus Dumbledore, being of reasonably sound mind, do hereby bequeath the following items to my heirs, in no particular order, with all the love and best wishes I can possibly give as one who is, by now, quite obviously dead…'"

She inwardly sighed. Albus had always had a bit of morbid humor in him.

"'To my brother, Aberforth: I want you to have the summer home in Madrid. Take it and all of its possessions, with the sole exception of the Ming vases, which are to be auctioned for the social services charity.'"

Aberforth nodded. "I'll supervise the auction myself."

"'To my good friend, Harold Jamison Potter: I want you to take the last possessions I have of your parents, as well as Fawkes. I wish that we had gotten to spend more time together, my boy, but we'll see eachother again, I'm sure. Take care of yourself until then.'"

She looked up to see several tears being wiped away with the heel of Harry's hand.

"'To Arthur Weasley: I've nominated you for the position of Minister of Magic. I do wish you great luck with that. I also leave to you what muggles call a 'playstation,' though I'm not quite sure how it works, myself. To Molly Weasley: During my last few weeks as Headmaster, I created a home econimics class for wizards and witches alike. I would be honored if you would fill the position, as would be the new Headmaster.'"

"'To Severus Snape: You know that I shall miss our talks. I wish that I could have taken you to see Tokyo, but as I am no longer able, I leave to you the house that I bought there some twenty years ago. I know that you will appreciate it for what it is - simple, yet elegant.'" Minerva felt her throat constrict as she read over the words, and could tell from the silence that Severus was barely holding back tears of his own. "'I've also left to you all of my stock portfolios, to do with as you like.'"

She took a shaky breath. Now, for the moment of truth.

"'And to Remus Lupin: I know that you and I have not seen eachother in quite some time, but I have left you what could possibly be the most daunting task of your young life. I would like for you to accept the role and responsibility of watching over and caring for Severus.'"

"WHAT!" Harry and Ron shouted, standing up, eyes accusingly darting to Snape, and then back to Minerva.

"I can explain, gentlemen. Sit down." She commanded.

Reluctantly, the two boys sat.

"What is this about, Minerva?" Remus inquired.

"It's simple, Lupin. Albus has given you ownership of me. In essence, I am your slave, your servant, or whatever else you might demand of me." Severus spat.

"But how..?"

Minerva shook her head. "Allow me to tell you the facts. Twenty one years ago, Severus was caught by aurors, and discovered to be a Death Eater. Shortly thereafter, he was convinced to spy for Albus Dumbledore, but the only way he could do that would be if he were no longer imprisoned in Azkaban. Albus went to see Cornelius Fudge about it. The only way the Minister would let Severus go would be if there were a contract binding him to the will of a person who was not Voldemort. He had the choice to stay in Azkaban, or to sacrifice his freedom for the greater good."

"And how brilliant was I? Not only did I live through the war itself, I outlived my master, my…"

She could see the confusion in Severus' eyes. He had truly resented being forced to sign the contract, but he had loved Albus - the idea of the same man being two things, and being dead as well, was starting to show on him. Minerva knew that Severus was going to snap soon, and when he did, it would be completely.

"So you have the choice to not be Remus' slave then, right?" Ron asked. "So what's the problem?"

"The problem is that if the contract is not taken up by someone else, Severus will either have to go back to Azkaban, or forfeit his life." She replied sternly. "Albus would not want Severus to rot in Azkaban, nor would he want Severus' life terminated so early."

"Why can't you take care of him?" Mr. Weasley inquired.

"That's a wonderful idea, Arthur. Minerva and I only argue about three times a bloody day as it is, let's see how wonderfully we react when I have to take ORDERS from HER!"

"Now see here," Molly began, but she was cut off by Remus standing up.

"I'll do it, for now. But I swear to you, Severus, you won't have to put up with me for long. I'll find a way around this contract, I promise."

Snape frowned at Remus, but said nothing.

"It's been a rough day for us all. Come on, dears," Molly said, dragging Ron, Harry and her husband out of Minerva's office.

"I think I'll retire for the night as well." Minerva stated, gathering her papers and leaving the remaining two men together. Inwardly, she knew that Remus was in for a bumpy ride, but she was happy that someone was willing to fight for Severus, even if it only stemmed from Albus' request.

to be continued...

AN: I'm planning on updating again soon, with a LONGER (happy?) chapter 


	14. Chapter Thirteen

AN: This is MY take on how things should go after Voldemort's demise. Disagree if you like, but please review. I can't improve or know how you feel unless you tell me what's wrong. Also, thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. You've been lights in a dark time for me lately, and I appreciate the time you take to leave feedback.

To My Child

Chapter Thirteen

Severus was slumped against the wall, blood seeping from his torn wrists to soak his clothes and the floor. Tears fell from his bottomless eyes, gazing into the nothingness before him.

"It hurts too much," the man whispered, resting his head against the stone, closing his eyes. "Make this stop, Albus, please… make it stop."

Remus sat up with a cry on his lips, looking around his rooms wildly.

Snape is under my care, he thought to himself, shakily climbing out of his bed.

A sudden panic over-came him, a result of his dream, and he pulled on his robes and slippers and ran out of his room to pound on Snape's doors.

"Severus! Severus, open up! Please, Severus! Let me in!" he shouted.

The door opened swiftly, revealing Snape in a long night shirt, looking even more tired than usual.

"Do you have any idea what time it is, Lupin?" the Slytherin demanded angrily.

"You're alright."

"I'm sorry, I was about to dash my head between the book shelf and the wall, but then you so rudely interrupted-"

Sarcasm, Remus told himself, he isn't serious. He pushed Snape aside and entered the rooms.

"What is your problem, Lupin?"

"I'm worried about you, Severus. We're going to share a room. I can keep a better eye on you -"

"If you think I'll let you any where NEAR me, you've got another thing coming! This is an outrage!"

Remus shot a heavy glance at Snape, whose dark eyes were now focused on his feet, bare and paler than the moon.

"This isn't a discussion, Severus, it's a fact. My rooms or yours, that can be your decision."

Snape growled deep in his throat, crossing his arms over his chest. "Damn you, Albus," he muttered. "Fine then. My rooms. Anything to keep your flea-infested wardrobe from invading me."

Within five minutes, Remus had transfigured the chest at the bottom of Snape's bed into a cot. Snape had retreated under the covers of his bed, the lights turned off, and Remus was left listening to the sound of Snape breathing.

He breathes so quietly, he noted to himself. He briefly wondered why, but then decided that he didn't want to know.

He also found himself wondering what Snape looked like when he was sleeping. Did those frown lines ever disappear? Did he ever look innocent, like a child? Or had years of being baited and riled erased all humanity from his features even in sleep? He wanted to take him wand, speak the word 'lumos' and see for himself what Snape looked like slumbering, but he was too afraid. What if Snape were to wake up, and see Remus standing over him?

Fear was not his friend. It had held him back from assisting Severus in their youth, it had prevented him from helping Sirius prove his innocence, and it was still keeping him from making important, rational decisions. If not for his fear, he wouldn't even be in this room, sleeping at the foot of Snape's bed, wondering how his face appeared!

"I... hate you..." Snape whispered.

"I'm sorry," Remus replied.

He waited for the barb, the insult, whatever it was that Snape was going to use to wound him emotionally, but it didn't come.

"... 's not my fault..." A whimper sounded from the bed. "No- no- please... d-don't!"

At once, Remus was on his feet, the candles flickering to life and the potions master pulled into his arms. "Wake up, Severus, it's just a night mare, wake up."

Snape refused to wake, though. He stuggled against Remus, whimpering, growling, and striking out when he could. Finally, unable to put up with it any longer, Remus climbed onto the bed, pulled Snape tightly against him, and began to stroke his hair, his back, until the fear-filled noises had quieted.

After a moment, Snape's head - resting on Remus' chest - raised slightly, brown eyes looking into Remus' own questioningly. "Lupin... what, may I ask, is going on?"

"You were having a nightmare." Remus replied truthfully.

"I see. And how does my nightmare equate to you being in my bed?"

"I was trying to wake you up before you hurt yourself."

Snape didn't look convinced, but said nothing further, laying his head back on Remus's chest, splaying the fingers of his left hand on the hard muscles of the werewolf's abdomen.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No I don't want to talk about it, thank you very much!" Snape replied sharply.

Nothing is ever easy with him.

"I'll let you get back to sleep then."

And then Remus feels - no, hears it, that sharp intake of breath as if something has just been painfully ripped out from beneath him.

"Fine, then." Snape replies, backing away and turning over, his back to Remus.

And I'm back to square one, the werewolf mused, getting out of the bed and walking carefully back to the cot.

"Sleep well," Remus bid Snape, pulling the blankets over his body.

Snape grunted in reply.

Minutes passed in complete silence - he couldn't even hear Snape's quiet breathing any more...

... Snape's breathing?

Remus jumped up and again, the candles flickered to life as he stumbled over neatly placed shoes to the side of he bed where Snape was sleeping. He had expected to find the man choking, suffocating himself, or dead of a stroke. He hadn't expected to see him… crying.

"Lupin, what in the name of Hades are you doing!" Snape demanded through his tears. "You're tiring yourself and annoying me!"

"What's wrong? Is it... is it Albus?"

"How can Gryffindors be so dense?" Snape muttered aloud, throwing his feet over the side of the bed and standing up. "Honestly, you all say that Slytherins are heartless, but at least we can recognize things for what they are!"

"You're bloody psychotic." Remus said aloud, laughing.

Snape turned on his heel quickly, glaring at him. "And what do you base that conclusion on?"

"You're erratic emotionally. One minute I can be having a semi-rational conversation with you, and the next minute you're angry again, and you act as if I should know why, as if I were psychic!"

"I'm no more psychotic than Black ever was! If anything -" Snape turned back around, reaching for a glass on the sink to fill it with water.

Remus crossed the room and turned him around by the shoulders. "It's okay to let it out, you know. I know that Albus' passing is upsetting for us all, especially you."

Snape looked up at him, eye brow raised. "What, no 'Snivellus'? Not even one insult for the memory of the dearly departed and deranged Sirius Black?"

"You know what? I give up. I'm tired, and you're making me think, for some strange reason, that you might actually have feelings burried beneath all that hatred you've accumulated throughout the years. But heaven forbid you might actually be wrong about yourself."

With that, Remus threw himself on the cot, refusing to cover himself, and the candles flickered out again.

He heard Snape cross the room, the soft padding of bare feet on cold stone, the creak of the bed as Snape sank into it, and the muffled sobs of someone who has just suffered some great misfortune...

Remus felt terrible. He wanted to apologize to Severus, but if he did...

...if he did, Snape might never try to get along with him at all.

He closed his eyes tightly, trying to ignore the painful sobs that escaped the Slytherin's throat, and fell into an uneasy sleep.

to be continued...

AN: Ok, a really not-so-happy chapter. My sorry, Sev'rus 


	15. Chapter Fourteen

AN: This is MY take on how things should go after Voldemort's demise. Disagree if you like, but please review. I can't improve or know how you feel unless you tell me what's wrong. Also, thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. You've been lights in a dark time for me lately, and I appreciate the time you take to leave feedback.

To My Child

Chapter Fourteen

Harry Potter had hardly slept at all.

He had spent most of the night, tossing and turning, picturing images of Snape being forced to do things for Albus, things that he had never imagined the headmaster capable of. Had Snape's entire existence under Dumbledore's care been forced? Had he actually wanted to teach? Harry didn't think so. Had he wanted to resume the role of spy? Probably not. Imagining all of those times that he had narrowly escaped Snape's wrath thanks to Dumbledore, Harry wondered if the betrayal hadn't hurt Snape a lot more than he had thought at the time.

The most vivid of these memories was of his second year, when he and Ron had stolen the Ford Anglia and flown to school, only to be caught by Snape. Snape had been about to expell them, had looked so pleased with himself about it, and then, Albus had come in, and they had been let off the hook. Harry remembered how he and Ron had dashed out of the office as quick as a flash of lightning, leaving Dumbledore and Snape behind. Had the two men argued? Had Snape wanted to hit Dumbledore, and not been able to? How much had the Potions Master suffered because of the stupidity of Cornelius Fudge?

Yet the sun was coming up, shining merrily through the window as if his world and his vision of all the people in it, hadn't been shattered so thoroughly the night before.

"Harry?" Ron asked softly from the bed across the room.

"Yeah Ron?"

"D'you think… D'you think that Hermione would've hated Dumbledore, for what happened to Snape?"

It was a difficult question. Hermione had been very much so against slavery, and all of it's forms. But he couldn't imagine her hating Dumbledore. Being displeased with him, yes, but not hating him.

"Harry, I kinda feel sorry for the ugly git now. It's not bloody right, it just… feels so weird! Feeling sorry for the bastard and all."

"I know."

"Should we do something for him? Like… I dunno… get him a bloody card or, a potions book?"

Harry thought about it.

"We can try."

to be continued...

AN: I'm very sorry that it's so short and it's been so long. Trust me when I say that the next chapter will be funnier, longer, and possibly, sooner. 


	16. Chapter Fifteen

AN: This is MY take on how things should go after Voldemort's demise. Disagree if you like, but please review. I can't improve or know how you feel unless you tell me what's wrong. Also, thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. You've been lights in a dark time for me lately, and I appreciate the time you take to leave feedback.

To My Child

Chapter Fifteen

The pounding on the door was what first woke Remus Lupin, who had, somehow in the middle of the night, seemed to have rolled out of his little transfigured cot and onto the floor at the foot of Severus' bed. Thankfully, said Slytherin was still asleep, and unable to admire the morbid humor in the situation.

Remus stood up slowly, brushed the dirt and soot - of which there was remarkably little - from his pajamas, and made his way to the door, which he then opened.

"G'morning Harry, Ron. What brings you here?"

The two young men looked very startled at his presence. "Um… we came… to ask Snape if he maybe… wanted to go out for a bit of breakfast. As an apology. For how idiotic we were when we were… young." Harry stammered.

"What the bloody hell're you doing in Snape's quarters, Remus?" Ron asked, a look of utter astonishment on his freckled-face.

"Oh, ah… well…" Remus looked sheepishly back to the bed where Snape was, miraculously, still sleeping. Looking back, he could see the man's face buried into the pillow, his slender fingers tangled in the bed sheets, entire body curled up like a large, tired cat.

Harry, following his eyes, blushed. "Y-y-you a-a-and Snape d-didn't… uh… you know…"

Ron, understanding Harry's meaning, backed up, eyes wide. "Wow, mate, that's just sick! How could you force him to do that? Especially Snape! Gross!"

"No, no, it's not like that!" Remus exclaimed. "I just… I was worried about him, thought it'd be better to keep an eye on him."

"Oh, well, in that case, sorry for thinking that you buggered him without consent." Ron replied, looking very relieved.

Harry, on the other hand, didn't seem quite as convinced, as if he saw something within Remus' soul that he wasn't even aware of.

"May I ask why the three of you are talking in my doorway about my private life at five forty in the morning!" Snape sniped sleepily from the bed.

"Harry and Ron wanted to know if you'd like to go out to breakfast with them." Remus replied.

Snape muttered something under his breath, raising himself up on his arms to glare at the three of them from beneath a curtain of black hair. "And what makes you think that I would want to do something like that?"

"B-b-bec-cause…" Ron stammered.

"We'll organize your potions ingredients. By scientific name." Harry replied.

"Very well. I'll hold you to that, Potter. I refuse to waste what few hours of sleep I have left because of bloody Gryffindors, so if you've no intention of going back to sleep yourselves, I suggest you leave and find something better to do, or you'll be harvesting those potions ingredients yourselves before organizing them." With that said, Snape turned and pulled the covers over his head.

"Come back around nine." Remus said softly, shutting the door and making his way back to the cot. He had just laid down, intent upon sleeping some more, when he heard Severus' tossing and turning. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Snape replied.

Remus groaned inwardly. How many times did he have to put up with Severus' childish antics? He sat up and looked over at the man laying in the bed. "Something's wrong. What is it, Severus?"

"Damnit, I don't have to -"

"Severus! Tell me!"

Snape's eyes widened in shock, Remus knew, if only from previous experience. He had shocked the potions master, ordering him to reveal his worries.

"I don't want to go out for breakfast. I don't want to go out."

Not wanting to go out? It seemed rather ridiculous to Remus, but then again, Severus wasn't the most rational person he'd ever met. There could be any of a million reasons why Severus didn't want to 'go out'. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Damn you, Severus. Why don't you want to go out? Is it because of Harry?" He watched as Severus slithered out from beneath the covers and sat up.

"No, it's not because of Potter." He retorted, voice filled with venom. "It's perfectly normal for an ex-Death Eater to dine with two of his most hated students, one of whom just HAPPENS to be Harry Potter. It's not like the media will pick up on it and write several scathing articles, not like the Ministry will care to mark it and watch his - in other words, my - activities. I'm not censored at all, is that what you want to hear, Lupin?"

"Gods, I'm sorry." Remus replied. He was, too. He had thought that after the war, people would've realized that Severus was reformed - for the most part. He may not be a pleasant person most of the time, but that didn't make a person evil. It made a person… well… it made them Severus.

"Sod your apology, you arrogant…. Just what gives you the right to poke around my head? You left us! You abandoned the cause all because of what, your heart couldn't take it, and now you're here and you just HAPPEN to have control of me, but you don't have the right, Lupin! I may be a former Death Eater, but at least I wasn't a coward when it counted!"

Ouch. Remus felt his throat constricting as those poisoned little words sank into his heart. It was true. He couldn't deny it, though he wished desperately that he could. "I need a breath of fresh air, I think." He whispered, standing up and pulling on his night robe, running from the room as quickly as possible, anything to get away from Severus.

Severus felt slight vindication as Lupin retreated from his room, but the image of hurt in Lupin's eyes kept him from falling back asleep. He knew what Albus would have wanted him to do, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to ever say the words. He had said them so many times in his childhood, and no one had believed him then. Why would Lupin, of all people, believe him now, even if he were able to say it?

Squeezing his eyes shut, he burrowed tightly into his nest of blankets and pillows, willing himself to sleep, but instead, images of the past resurfaced.

"Mr. Snape, we have reason to suspect illicit dark activity in your home on this, the night of June the fourth, nineteen-sixty-"

There was growling coming from behind him. Growling?

He turned around, eyes wide as he met his mother, face-to-face with her wolf-form.

He also remembered - his father hadn't had time to give her the test potion yet.

"Avada -" one of the aurors was beginning.

As if in slow motion, he watched his father throw himself between the wolf and the aurors, horrified as the killing curse landed square in his father's chest.

He fell to the floor, weeping. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

She would have had the potion if he hadn't dropped the jar of monkshood oil.

"I'm sorry!"

With a growl, Severus rolled onto his other side, resettling, and again, trying to sleep.

He was only trying to get to his seat without Goyle tripping on his robes.

James hadn't seen him, he had been too busy talking to Black about Quidditch.

Goyle stepped on his robes, Severus came to a dead halt, and Potter had walked right into him, bowling him over and knocking the wind out of him.

Unfortunately, though, Severus had also been carrying some freshly harvested mandragora skin, and Potter, coincidentally, was allergic. Within minutes, he had swollen to the size of a balloon, and nearly everyone in the Great Hall cracked up.

Even as Black and a prefect escorted Potter to the infirmary, he was shouting, "I'm sorry!" His apologies fell on deaf ears.

He couldn't sleep. It was undeniable, even as he lay, listening to the sound of the past in his ears. Three hours passed, and finally, he threw himself out of bed, dressing as he had been lately, in mourning robes. He then left his rooms, in search of Potter and Weasley.

to be continued...

AN: Ok, it started out funny, and ended on a more serious note. Didn't see that one coming (though maybe I should've?). I'm thinking about playing moe with Lupin next chapter, he's just so hard for me to get a hold of. I don't exactly write Gryffindors like a Gryffindor, too much of a Slytherin meself 


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